An Unattractive Vampire (29 page)

He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t even really be angry. He was just sort of numb all over. And so he found that he did not care if Nora beat the crap out of him. At least, then, he might feel something again.

“It’s her first trip to LA,” Nora shouted back.

“Well, the Doctor said you should go downstairs and assist Phantom,” said Cassan.

“Assist him with what? Waiting?” she said sarcastically. “There are a load of other vampires down there, doing just that. But not one of them can tell you how Amanda will react to the arrival of her rescue party. I can.”

The argument was interrupted by a knock from the door they were supposed to be guarding. With a bit of trepidation, Nora unlocked and opened it. Amanda stood there, still in the slinky dress she’d worn to the club earlier, though now paired with a pair of comfy sweatpants, which she’d clearly just put on underneath. Her hair was down, and her contacts were out, but she still had all her makeup on. In essence, she was the epitome of relaxed sexiness.

“You guys should probably come see this,” she said, motioning for them both to enter.

Cassan gave her a stoic look of disbelief and even Nora couldn’t help being a bit suspicious, but Amanda moved away from the door, evidently intending to go change out of her “evening wear” and into her evening wear. Feeling it a safe bet their charge was not going to run off without first putting on a shirt, the two vampires entered the room.

“Out there.” Amanda motioned to the balcony.

The vampires passed the piano, the tasteful couch-and-love-seat combo, the art, the modern art, the home entertainment system, the bookshelf of autographed first editions, the fully stocked bar, the dance floor, and the daybed before they reached the open balcony window.

Calling the sight that greeted them a fight was very much like calling the expanse of tastefully decorated comfort behind them a room. In the partial illumination of the street lamps from the lot below, they could see fifty of their fellows. Fifty strong young immortals armed with crosses, holy water, and stakes were standing up against six elder vampires. Rather, forty-eight were standing. Now forty-seven. Forty-four.

The two on the balcony looked on as the beautiful undead were mowed down. They watched as a green-skinned woman flipped over a man in a fashionable black trench coat and used her long nails to slice his head clean off. They stood witness as an eyeless mummy ripped the arms off a woman, then watched her writhe in pain, as if she were a fascinating insect. A jaguar-headed creature flew out of the sky and ate the face off a screaming vampire. A rotted priest pulled the skin off another with torturous precision. A hunchback sat atop a man’s chest, eating his heart as the corpse crumbled to ash beneath him.

The air was filled with screams and dust and death. It was horrible, monstrous.

In the midst of the carnage stood Yulric Bile, eyes alight, laughing ecstatically. The ancient vampire waded into the fray, one hand grabbing and slashing with brutal strength, the other wielding, for no vampiric reason, an old, well-used ax. Not the kind you picture a fireman with, nor the tool for chopping lumber, this was an ax you find in a museum next to a set of armor labeled The Huns 500 CE or The Vikings circa 854 AD. Yulric’s, however, was not gathering dust behind glass but being used to separate heads from bodies.

He saw Nora watching him from the balcony. A malicious wide smile spread across his face. Nora was suddenly filled with a terrible realization, one that few others would ever know: while many were the paths to vampirism, the oldest and foulest was simply being too evil to stay dead.

A movement to her right drew Nora’s attention just in time. Cassan was scrambling over the balcony to join the fight.

“Cassan, no!” She grabbed his arms and pulled hard. As the strongest of their coven, normally, she could have dragged him back, no problem. Right now, however, she was having trouble.

“Let. Me. Go,” he bellowed as he fought against her.

“You’ll be killed.” As she said it, black flame shot from the hands of the eyeless hag, further reducing their side from thirty down to twenty-two.

“I don’t care,” he snarled. A quick head movement put Nora in fear that Cassan might try to gnaw his arm off if she didn’t let go. Or worse, her arm.

“You were told to stay here,” she said, now appealing to the sense of duty he’d always enjoyed. “You were ordered to guard this room.”

“He killed Victoria!” the man screamed, tears of sadness and rage filling his eyes.

“No, he didn’t,” said a voice far behind them. Nora’s grip loosened, but it didn’t matter because Cassan had stopped struggling. Both of them were now staring into the room.

Standing about ten feet from the door were three people. There was a short brunette in sunglasses, frozen in the manner of someone caught in wrongdoing. There was Amanda, holding a packed bag and shaking her head in annoyance. And, there in front, was a young boy, dressed all in black.

“Why? Why?” asked Amanda. “We were almost gone.”

“He shouldn’t be given credit for something I did,” said Simon in the same tone most boys would use to complain about Little League MVP trophies.

“Credit?
Credit?
” screamed Cassan, stepping back over the balcony rail and into the room. Nora followed, though more cautiously. She’d already seen what this little boy was capable of and didn’t like the idea of being within shuriken-throwing distance. Or crossbow-bolt shooting distance. Or halberd-spearing distance. Or—

“Yes,” the boy said calmly. His voice held no malice nor any trace of mocking. It was as if he was giving an answer in school. “It’s a matter of fact. He did not kill the vampires at our house; I did.”

Cassan twitched. Every fiber of his being was screaming for bloody vengeance, but tearing a child limb from limb was not okay. He may have been mad with rage, but he wasn’t a monster.

Simon glanced at his pocket watch. “Time to go.”

“Wait,” cautioned the woman in the sunglasses.

“Wait for what?” asked Amanda.

The woman held up her hand. Ten seconds later there was a tremendous explosion from below them. Not that they felt it, the room being so large and earthquake ready. They heard it, though, echoing up through the still-open balcony door. The woman smiled. “Now we can go.”
“AAAAH!”

The blast seemed to have settled Cassan’s inner turmoil. He let out a wail of pain that foretold imminent violence.

“Cassan, don’t,” pleaded Nora.

“No!” Amanda shouted.

Cassan charged. He raced toward the door behind the escapees. However, there seemed little doubt that he was intent on killing anyone in his way. Nora ran after, hoping against hope that she could get a step or two ahead of him. The boy just stood there, waiting. Clearly, he was aching for a fight. Unfortunately, he didn’t get one.

Nora slid to a halt as Cassan exploded into dust in front of her. The powder was slow to dissipate, but when it did, Amanda was standing on the other side, having stepped in front of her brother, stake in hand.

Nora fell to her knees amid growing piles of her former friend and cast mate. “You—you killed him.”

Amanda joined her on the ground. “I am so sorry,” she said. “I couldn’t—he was going to hurt Simon. I am so, so sorry.” Nora caught Amanda’s gaze and turned furious. “The Doctor was right about you. You could never be a vampire.”

“I guess not.” Amanda stood. “Will you try to stop us?”

Nora considered it for a minute. She considered killing them all where they stood for what they had done to her friends. But in the end, she couldn’t. “Go.”

Amanda gave a small nod of thanks and left her friend to grieve.

“Well, that could have gone better,” remarked Catherine.

“I’m sorry. Who are you, exactly?” Amanda replied.

The elders burst into the lobby of Phantom Studios, an impressive, airy space large enough that sixty-eight well-coifed, wellgroomed modern vampires could lie in wait on three sides, and six supernaturally superior ones could face them on the other. A second floor, lined with eternal twenty-somethings, wrapped around the sides of the lobby, ending in spiral staircases to the immediate right and left of Yulric’s AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! of vampires. There was even a hole in the middle of the floor, with a pool of multicolored koi swimming about, so oblivious to what was going on that a few poked their heads up with the hope of being fed.

Stoic, determined expressions looked down upon the invaders from symmetrical facial features on ones who had refused to do battle without their makeup. Fashion varied greatly among the young vampires, from ridiculous frilly shirts and black velvet to the more common designer jeans and silk tops, with a stop here and there at “how does that stay on?” Not that the older vampires were necessarily any better. Only three of them were properly dressed, and at least one of them was completely naked. The difference was you didn’t want to see what Yulric’s cadre had.
⁶³

“They seem confident,” Arru said quietly as she glanced from one stony face to another.

Yulric’s eyes darted around the lobby. “This is their place of power. What could possibly harm them here?”

“Maybe someone should show them what we did to their friends outside.” Cebrian laughed, his red-and-white robes now just red.

“It would make no difference,” Adze said conversationally, though he too was taking in each and every body before him.

“They think themselves immune to death.”

“Because they are vampires?” Yu Mei snorted.

“Because they are young,” replied Adze.

“Shall we kill them now?” asked Tezcatlipoca in his own language.

“He wants to know if we are going to kill them,” repeated Cebrian.

“Did he now?” replied Yulric, enjoying his private secret. “What do we think?”

“Perhaps we should give them a chance to surrender,” said Yu Mei.

Cebrian let out a hiss of disgust. “Let them surrender? Spare them? Please, tell me you jest.”

“Oh, we will kill them anyway,” she clarified. “But we should still let them surrender. To be polite.”

Cebrian laughed. The other vampires nodded their approval, even Tezcatlipoca, which made Yulric more certain that he wasn’t the sole one keeping secrets.

Before any of them could act, though, a voice rang from the center of the balcony. A deep, brooding, tender voice that any girl between the ages of ten and thirty-five would kill to hear on a daily basis, if only on her voice mail.

“If you’d like to surrender, now is the time,” it boomed across the lobby.

Several vampires on the balcony parted as Phantom and Berwyn stepped forward from the crowd. Moving with a confident grace, the pair leapt over the railing and landed lightly on the floor below. Neither showed any concern. After all, they had played this scene often enough to know how it would end.

“You’re surrounded, outnumbered.” Phantom gestured to the vampires all around him. “But we don’t have to do this. Just lay down your arms, and I’ll take you to see The Doctor Lord Talby. No one gets hurt.”

“What’s he saying?” asked Cebrian and Yu Mei at the same time.

As the only English speakers, Adze, Arru, and Yulric looked at each other. After that, none of them could stop laughing, for a full minute. All around the room there was a low level of uncomfortable shifting. Even Phantom, who had been scoffed at by several evil beings,
⁶⁴
looked confused. This was not how it was supposed to go, his expression said. A villain’s laughter was supposed to be cold and maniacal. They weren’t supposed to find something you said actually funny.

After Yulric had composed himself enough to explain what Phantom had said to the others, and after
they
had stopped laughing in turn, Yulric finally faced Phantom. “Leave.”

“That’s it?” Phantom blurted out, having expected a lengthy monologue worthy of a Saturn Award.

“Leave now,” Yulric added.

“You can’t have the Doctor,” Berwyn shouted, with a look to his fellow actor. Improvising was not his strong suit. “You’ll have to kill us all to get to him.”

There was a hesitant murmur of agreement. The assembled vampires were not quite ready to die for any reason. But they agreed anyway, hoping it might impress that hot female ten feet away whom they hadn’t slept with yet.

Phantom stepped forward. “You see, together we are strong. Together we can do anything. Together we—”

Painful cries cut him off. The older vampires had gotten bored, and having a rather cruel sense of irony, were using a monologue about the strength of the collective to destroy the army of youths, utterly, completely, and irrevocably. Dark tendrils of energy were pulling the vampires on Phantom’s right into the air, drawing out their essence and feeding it to Yu Mei. Those on his left were screaming in pain and falling to ash as Arru’s black flame burned them from the inside out. On the balcony, the laws of physics had been completely overturned, causing many of them to uncontrollably float through the ceiling and up into the sky, courtesy of Tezcatlipoca, to which Cebrian harrumphed, “Show off.” In a matter of only moments, seventy vampires were reduced to two.

“Sorry. Please, go on. You were saying how strong you were together,” said Yulric, a mocking smile upon his face.

The standoff was undercut by the loud clump of footsteps on metal stairs. Down the stairwell to the side, a caravan proceeded, consisting of the strange little killer boy, a short woman with sunglasses, and the reason all these people were here. “Ha!” Phantom cried. In an instant, he had Amanda grasped tightly. Berwyn followed suit, though he seemed hesitant to approach the kid.

“It seems the tables have turned,” Phantom challenged.

“What do you—”

“Ahem.” Phantom looked down to see Simon holding a silver cross in his hand. “Please let go of my sister.”

Phantom laughed and pulled a necklace with a cross on it from under his shirt. “Crosses don’t work on me.”

“I know, but she took my crossbow,” the eight-year-old replied. Phantom felt the tip of an arrow press against his chest.

“It’s not safe for a boy to handle such dangerous weapons,” Amanda said pointedly.